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Poetry

Glenn Hubbard – 1 poem

Granite

 

Feldspar and silica.

Felsic for short. Quartz.

Coarse, the grain.

Hence the name.

Under the crust,

cooling magma. Mica.

 

After many hours

of wandering

through the big

town, she’s tired

and cold, needs

a sit down.

The heat has

drained from

the sunny

autumn day.

Grey stone

slab like a

warm slice.

Oh! That’s nice!

 

Bearer of last messages

behind village churches.

Demanding. Hard to carve.

Chisels clink in a satchel.

That maddening chink.

 

Finely dressed. Best ashlar.

Many a town hall.

In Aberdeen, east-facing

facades that last.

 

And many a proud railway station

that gleams in the Sierra sunshine

there where they hold the line

against the red brick invasion.

 

Up and down the thriving island

new homeowners rip them out.

Tiles and floors in perfect kitchens

making way for tiles and floors.

Those were theirs; these are yours.

 

They lowered the stone in on a crane.

All the way from El Berrueco.

We’d sit, watching the fish.

It was hard

not to hope for hernias

when thieves stole a slab.

 

🍃

Glenn Hubbard 

By Heavenly Flower Publishing

Bindweed Magazine publishes two anthologies each year: Midsummer Madness and Winter Wonderland. Bindweed is run as a not for profit, labour of love endeavour by an author/poet couple: Leilanie Stewart and Joseph Robert. Bindweed can be found at https://bindweedmagazine.wordpress.com

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